Morningside
by breakingatthecracks
Summary: Santana Lopez is not scared; or so she says.
1. Chapter 1

_Still not any good?_

There's Rachel's name flashing on her phone again for the fourth consecutive night.

_Still not any good. Berry, this is stupid._

There she is, calling _this_stupid for the fourth consecutive night.

It was Rachel and Kurt's idea—in effort to help her figure out her confusion about… _everything_, the twins told her to go on different dates and figure out what she wants all at once.

It all started after everything that happened last week.

_**Monday Last Week**_

Santana is seated beside Kurt—who is on a three-night marathon of America's Next Top Model—when her phone buzzes. She looks at her screen and the moment she sees the name of the message sender, Santana smiles.

Rachel catches this but doesn't say anything.

_**Tuesday Last Week**_

There's another text message and there's another smile from Santana—this time, they're in the dining table, sharing what could probably be the worst _moussaka_she ever tasted in her life.

This time, Rachel doesn't keep quiet about it.

"Who're you texting, Santana?" Rachel asks, soon as Santana starts typing a reply.

Santana smirks, "God. Asking him why I had to eat this _moussaka_of death."

Kurt snorts, "Hey. Rachel prepared this for four hours."

Rachel rolls her eyes, "Don't change the topic Santana Lopez –"

"Ooooh," Santana teases, "We're calling each other in full names now."

"Who're you texting?"

"Why do you care?"

Kurt only eyes them.

Rachel shrugs, "I just notice that you have been texting non-stop these days."

"It's none of your business, Berry. But for what it's worth, I'm not selling any body parts—if that's what you're scared of."

Kurt laughs.

"Kurt, will you focus?"

Kurt acts as if he's sealing his mouth with a zipper.

Rachel adjusts in her seat so that her whole body faces Santana, "Is this a new girl you're eyeing on?"

"That's impossible, Rachel," Kurt says. "It's probably Brittany, poor Brittany thinking Santana's only texting her for friendship—"

"It's not Brittany, okay," Santana dismisses him. "It's no one, no one you know."

Rachel and Kurt stop at this.

_**Wednesday Last Week**_

This time, both Kurt and Rachel see it.

There was another text and there was another smile, like it's almost automatic.

Kurt looks at Rachel and Rachel only gives Kurt the "I told you" look.

_**Thursday Last Week**_

They're all on the living room—Kurt on the large couch browsing through his laptop, Rachel sitting on the floor reading a script, and Santana on the smaller couch, well, texting—when Santana laughs, actually laughs, on a text message she received.

"What is it?" Kurt asks, on impulse.

In between silent laughs and efforts to reply, Santana says, "It'sQuinn, she said something really funny about her ex-boyfriend professor."

Santana misses the way Rachel's jaws drops. Rachel turns to Kurt and Kurt turns to Rachel. They couldn't believe it.

_**Friday Last Week**_

Santana is actually thankful that Kurt and Rachel decide to order in Chinese food this time—that way, she wouldn't have to eat any more of Berry's attempts in vegan cuisine.

They were all having a nice talk about how Mr. Schuester got Emma back when Kurt asks the question that have gone unasked since the wedding.

"Where were you after the wedding, Santana?" Kurt asks nonchalantly as if it didn't make Santana's heart skip a beat.

"Back at the hotel room, slept in," Santana shrugs, hoping that her roommates wouldn't pry. "Where were the both of you?"

"You both know where I was," Rachel says.

"I was with Blaine. Don't judge me, everybody hooks up at weddings."

"That's true," Santana says and immediately regrets it afterwards.

"So, you hooked up with somebody?" Kurt asks her, eyes now full with interest.

"What?" Santana asks then adds, "No. I'm part of the minority."

Rachel nods, "Do you know where Quinn was after the wedding?"

There it is. Rachel mentally taps herself for that.

Santana shakes her head, hoping her acting would convince two NYADA students (who is she kidding?), "No. Why would I know that?"

"Because," Rachel pauses, "You both came to the wedding as each other's dates."

"You were also dancing with each other the whole night," Kurt says. "If it isn't so impossible, I would think that you gals hooked up," he adds, trying to hide the fact that he's in equal parts nervous and excited about Santana's reaction.

Santana only freezes.

That's about the most reaction they get.

_**Saturday Last Week**_

It's Saturday and Rachel can't help it.

"Is it Quinn?" she asks Santana in the middle of their _Final Destination_marathon.

Santana looks at Rachel with an unreadable expression as Kurt puts the TV on mute.

"What are you talking about?" Santana asks, her voice laced with masked anxiousness.

"The one who texts you like every day and makes you smile like the way you smile when Brittany dances."

_Now, this is getting interesting,_Kurt thinks.

Santana only looks at Rachel.

"I get it now, Santana. You and Quinn were dancing when Finn and I were singing and then you disappeared right after that. The next day, you're texting someone you won't tell us who and the next thing we know, Quinn tells you something funny and you would laugh the way you never do even if we're watching _Big Bang Theory_," Rachel says in a breath.

Santana takes a deep breath.

"It's okay to tell us, Santana. We won't judge you—or Quinn, but as your roommates, I think we deserve to at least have a name of the person that makes Santana Lopez smile like an idiot, like all the time—"

"The same way you know about Adam and Kurt and Brody and I—"

"And you and Finn," Santana interrupts cautiously.

"And Finn and I."

Silence—a tentative one.

Rachel can tell Santana wants to say something.

"She doesn't know."

Santana finally says.

And for the first time in Rachel Berry's life, her heart broke for Santana Lopez.

_**Sunday Last Week**_

"I don't know," Santana says in frustration hugging the pillow closest to her.

She's been trying to avoid Rachel and Kurt's questions since last night but they don't seem to stop. Of course, this is Rachel and Kurt. They never stop. Santana knows she should have known better.

"What you mean you don't know?" Kurt, who has been lying beside Santana since last night, asks.

"I don't know, Hummel. It means I don't know," Santana bites. "We've been texting, yes. But we're not—"

"Not what?" Kurt interrupts.

"Anything with labels."

"I can't believe that the other person in question is Quinn," Rachel ponders.

Kurt only smirks and thinks, _I've always known._

"So, she really doesn't know that you're in—"

"She doesn't know anything," Santana interrupts before Rachel says the one thing she's been so afraid of realizing.

"What do you guys talk about when you text all day?"

"Not all day, only when we have time—"

"Which is all the time," Rachel adds.

Santana rolls her eyes, "We exchange good mornings and she tells me about her coffee runs and how she hates her classes."

"Quinn hates her classes?"

"Not the point, Rachel."

"Sorry."

"At night, she tells me about her day, I tell her about mine."

"And you don't find anything weird with that?" Kurt asks.

"Of course, I do. I think it's weird because I don't tell anyone about my day, not even you both."

"True," Rachel nods. "So, why don't you ask her out?"

Santana's jaws drops, "Seriously, Berry? You're asking me that? This is Quinn we're talking about."

"One thing, Santana. Tell me the truth; did you hook up on Valentine's Day?"

Silence—a brief, tentative one.

"Kind of."

Rachel's eyes widen.

So does Kurt's.

"So..." Rachel hesitates for a moment, "Was she good?"

"Rachel!" Santana shrieks.

"Oh my God," Kurt says, still agape.

There's another brief silence probably caused by Rachel and Kurt's shock. Santana decides to break it anyway.

"Say something?"

"What are you planning to do?" Rachel silently asks.

Santana's eyebrows furrow at the question, "Uhm, nothing? She's Quinn, remember. Quinn's almost as straight as a ruler."

"There are bendable rulers now," Kurt counters.

"Touché," Santana nods convinced, but then adds "but that's not the point."

"What's the point?"

"The point is aside from Quinn being so straight, I'm not actually sure if I like her that way."

Rachel and Kurt only look at her.

"Look, I appreciate you trying to help me sort this out but there's really nothing to see here."

"That still doesn't explain how big you smile every time she sends you a text," Rachel says, confusion lacing in her tone.

"Fine, I admit. It's nice."

"Nice?" Kurt asks with a raised eyebrow.

"She checks on me every single time, asking if I have already eaten yet and reminds me to go to sleep early. In the middle of those, we talk about nothing really else, aside from that kid in her Lit class and that waiter at the bar. It's nice having a friend."

Rachel almost laughs, "Friend? Kurt never checks if I have eaten my lunch yet."

This shuts Santana up.

"Okay, girly," Kurt says sighing. He turns to her with the kind of look that told Santana he has a plan. "We're not asking you to go out there and ask Quinn out because we're not sure we're ready for that," he says, looking at Rachel for affirmation.

Rachel nods.

"But you have to figure out. It's been months of non-stop flirting. You have to at least know if you like Quinn."

"That sounded wrong," Santana says.

"Yeah, totally," Rachel agrees.

"What do I do?" Santana asks.

"Go out on a few dates," Rachel suggests. "That'll help you figure it out."

"What? How?"

Rachel only nods and says, "You'll know."

_**Today**_

And that's how Santana ended up on a subway on the way home from her fourth consecutive night out with one of the girls Rachel introduced her from NYADA.

_I'm calling it. You like Quinn._

Santana rolls her eyes at Berry's text.

_Great. Now, you know something about me that I don't._

She taps on her phone to wait for Berry's reply.

_Known it since date number two._

_How?_

_You told us Katherine isn't smart._

_I don't get it._

_You also said she isn't blonde._

_Olivia is blonde and I still don't like her any better._

_You also told us the girls don't wear enough dresses._

_I'm a perv, I like leering._

_Floral dresses._

_I didn't say that!_

_Sure did._

_God, Berry!_

_You like Quinn._

She sighs.

Maybe, she really likes Quinn.

It's not like she ever saw it coming. After she and Quinn did the deed on Valentine's Day, they seemed closer—closer than they ever were; and that's saying something because she had been friends with Quinn ever since Lucy.

They would text each other morning greetings; text each other during their free periods—Quinn at school, and Santana at work. They would call each other for no reason at all. They would talk about their day. They would Skype whenever they get the chance.

And, as if it couldn't get any worse, she hasn't stopped thinking about Quinn since that night. To top it off, it's not even about the sex. Sure, Quinn was a good lay but the reason Santana is thinking about Quinn isn't the sex.

She's thinking about Quinn and the little details that make Quinn… Quinn.

She's never thought about anyone else this way since Brittany.

Scratch that.

It's the first time she's thought about anyone this way.


	2. Chapter 2

Santana sits in the living room with Kurt pacing in front of her.

Irritated, she asks Kurt. "Will you stop pacing?"

"Santana, don't blame me if I'm too excited about Rachel's idea of finally getting you to act on your feelings for Quinn."

Santana rolls her eyes, "I knew it's better for me that you do not know about my… so-called feelings. I don't have them though."

Kurt only rolls his eyes, "Whatever you say, Santana."

Rachel emerges from her side of the apartment with both of her hands behind her and a grin that tells Santana she can't say _no_ to Rachel Berry.

"I have been planning to use this for quite a while now but maybe, it's only fitting that you're the one to use it," Rachel hands her a Metro North Pass.

Santana's eyes widen as she takes the card from Rachel.

"You wouldn't have to worry about anything, it's back and forth."

Santana only eyes her.

Rachel rolls her eyes, so does Kurt.

"What?"

"Go get the girl, Santana," Rachel beams in such a way that almost makes Santana believes she actually can.

So, that's why she's standing in the middle of Union Station, waiting for Quinn to arrive.

It's October and it's actually really cold already—it's colder in New York though, so, she really doesn't mind it at all. She's in her most comfortable pair of leggings, plain white top, leather jacket, and her _lucky _navy blue scarf. It almost feels like home, maybe because she knows Quinn is somewhere, making her way to her.

She sent a text to Quinn 30 minutes ago, saying she's coming and that Quinn should pick her up. She planned on surprising Quinn but halfway down the train ride, she realized she didn't have any idea where Quinn's dorm is. She tried asking Rachel but Rachel hasn't replied yet.

So, she fails on her first plan. She hopes she doesn't mess up the rest of her plans—which is really, no plans at all.

She doesn't know why she agreed anyway. She doesn't know what she's gonna say or what she's gonna do but she can't help but remember that sincere—but also somewhat annoying—look on Rachel's face that told her _maybe_, everything's gonna be okay.

"What are you doing here?" are the first words Santana hears from Quinn after Valentine's Day; after Santana heard her moan her name when she—

"Santana, are you okay?" Quinn asks again when Santana won't respond.

She takes the sight of Quinn in. It's the first time she sees Quinn in eight months and it surprises her how Quinn seems to be…_glowing_.

_Does she always glow like this?_

Quinn looks cozy in her black skinny jeans and oversized gray sweater with a huge YALE print. Only Quinn could pull this look of with a derby hat and bright red loafers.

Santana swallows an invisible lump in her throat, now feeling the pressure of coming up with an excuse of being in New Haven at the very moment.

"I—" she manages.

_Great._

Quinn rolls her eyes and takes Santana by the hand and she shivers for some reason.

She finds herself seated across Quinn inside the _Book Trader Café_ somewhere near Yale (of course, she researched).

She almost rolls her eyes at how _Quinn _the place is.

Santana snickers, "Of course, a coffee shop with lots of books."

Quinn raises an eyebrow and Santana dies. _That's sexy._

"You're saying that to me now after almost an hour of nothing?" Quinn says, trying hard to make it sound angry but Santana knows she's not.

Santana only shrugs and then takes a sip from her cup of coffee that Quinn ordered for her. It somehow calms her. She still doesn't have any idea about how to start talking to Quinn but at least, she's now sure that she's not just gonna burst it out uncharacteristically.

"Why are you here?" Quinn asks again.

Santana sighs and again, swallows that stupid, invisible lump in her throat.

"Can't I visit my bestfriend anymore?" Santana asks dramatically.

Quinn half-laughs, "Is this what Rachel and Kurt have done to you?"

Santana rolls her eyes, "Oh, trust me. They've done more than convert me into a theater genius."

Quinn laughs and Santana suddenly feels a little familiarity, maybe, it isn't one-way; _maybe_ everything's gonna be alright.

"So, what brings you here?"

Quinn has her eyes on the target. Santana knows she wouldn't stop asking.

"I have to tell you something."

Quinn only stares at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I really don't know how you would react but—"

"Santana, it's okay," Quinn interrupts.

Santana takes a deep breath.

"I—"

Quinn's phone beeps.

_Fuck._

"Wait," Quinn says before fishing her phone out from the side pocket of her sweater.

She reads her message and by the look on Quinn's face, Santana could tell she's weirded out by whatever text that is.

She looks up from her phone and looks at Santana quizzically, "Why the hell is Rachel texting me, asking if you made it here?"

_Fuck you to hell Rachel Berry._

"She's the one who encouraged me to come here tell you something."

"What is it, Santana?" Quinn asks again, clenching her jaws.

"I—"

Quinn raises an eyebrow.

"I think—"

Quinn huffs impatiently.

"I think Rachel is pregnant."

_Well, damn._

Quinn's jaws drop in an instant, her face mirrors an expression somewhere between shock and disappointment.

"What?"

Santana thinks about taking it back—but she can't. She can't take back one second of cowardice.

"We think she's pregnant and we need you there," Santana says, trying to sound like Rachel is actually pregnant; like she wasn't there when they both confirmed she wasn't; trying to make it sound like that issue wasn't six months ago.

"Holy crap," Quinn says, still agape, still with wide eyes.

Santana only nods.

There's silence—the kind she and Quinn doesn't usually have. Quinn is contemplating and Santana is just waiting for Quinn to come up with anything to do with Rachel's _situation_.

Then, for a split second, Santana sees the brief confusion in Quinn's face. The blonde looks at her as if searching for something but that look quickly goes away. Quinn sighs shortly after.

Santana watches as Quinn unlocks her phone.

"It's probably best if you don't call her right now. She's really scared," Santana lies and if this is happening to someone else, she would have been laughing by now but it is, unfortunately, happening to her.

Quinn shakes her head, "I'm not gonna call her. I'm checking out my schedule."

_Oh._

Quinn scans her phone for a moment and then looks up at Santana, "Are you staying the night?"

_That is a very tempting offer._

_It's Thursday and I'm off from work tomorrow. It doesn't sound so bad._

_It's really tempting._

"I didn't bring—"

"I would make the trip back to New York with you tonight if I didn't have any classes tomorrow but I do. So, I was thinking we could make the trip back together tomorrow."

"Yeah," Santana nods, "That doesn't sound so bad."

Silence. _Again_.

Santana thinks about taking it back but she's too far gone now.

"Who's the father?"

Santana slaps herself mentally, preparing herself for a mile-long rant from Rachel Berry after she covers up for this.

"That's the problem. We really don't know."

For the second time that night, Quinn's jaws drops.

_And Santana might find it a little bit sexy._

* * *

This chapter is a little shorter. I didn't expect anybody would bother reading this, but thank you lovelies. The title, by the way, is inspired by Sara Bareilles' song of the same title. Don't hesitate to message me for suggestions or anything; and your reviews are very much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

This one is a little bit different. I tacked something I have been wanting to write about. You've been warned.

* * *

Staying the night might have been a wrong idea.

"You don't have a roommate?" she asks Quinn the moment they made it inside her dorm.

Quinn quickly scrambles to clean up the slight mess inside—a few books and discarded pajamas on top of her bed. "I used to have one," Quinn says, stuffing the books on top of her study table.

"Where is she?" Santana asks, plopping on Quinn's bed soon after it's cleared.

"Dropped out, I guess."

"Yale is like, really big."

Quinn scoffs, "I know, right. It's my second year and I haven't gone around the entire campus yet."

"I must say Quinn, you belong here."

Quinn turns to her and looks at her as if waiting for the classic Santana let-down line.

Santana laughs, "What? I mean it."

"I'm taking that as a compliment, thank you," Quinn says smilingly.

"Yeah, I mean the old buildings, the trees, they're all so you," Santana mocks.

"Very funny, Santana."

"Do I get a tour?" Santana asks, bouncing on her place in the bed.

Quinn rolls her eyes, "I have classes tomorrow from 8 'til noon. Suit yourself around here."

"You won't even tour me?"

"Stop being such a baby, Santana. You have Google Maps. I can give you an actual map. If you really want to tour around the campus, go do it yourself."

"Why so grumpy, Quinnie?"

Quinn only rolls her eyes.

"How's the future actress doing so far?" Santana asks, taking a look around Quinn's pale bedroom. "Where are your Audrey Hepburn movie posters? I loved those posters in your room."

"I just moved here from the Old Campus. I haven't had the time to fix my room yet."

"There are 12 residential colleges in Yale and you choose this crappy room?"

Quinn looks at her as if she made an awful joke.

"What?"

"How did you know about the 12 colleges here?"

_Oops._

_I might have researched quite a bit._

"Everybody knows that there are 12 colleges here."

No_. Of course not._

Quinn shakes her head smilingly, "Whatever, Santana. This room has the best view of the courtyard. You'll know tomorrow morning."

"Whatever."

It's after Santana has changed into Quinn's clothes does she ever regret staying the night. She's inside this small dorm room, alone with Quinn; wearing Quinn's clothes that smell like Quinn's stupid cherry blossoms perfume, and worst—

"We're sharing the bed, scoot over," Quinn says, preparing for bed.

Santana's heart stops for the briefest of seconds, "What? Why don't you use your roommate's bed?"

"You're the guest Santana. Why don't you sleep on that bed and suffer from the smell of it."

"Is it that bad?"

"Go see for yourself."

Santana looks at the abandoned bed adjacent to Quinn's and almost imagines the smell of old people. She doesn't know why but she wouldn't dare smell that thing.

She scoots over until she's pressed against the wall and Quinn smirks, "That's my girl."

Santana's jaws drop at that.

_**Hours Later**_

She's still wide awake.

In fact, she finds it harder to sleep now that Quinn has fallen into a deep slumber, snoring lightly.

Quinn's face is inches away from hers, she can almost smell Quinn's mint breath.

She stares at Quinn and Santana decides that the Quinn she's seeing right now is the most beautiful she's ever seen Quinn—calm, at peace, and happy.

She debates with herself about the last one because how could you tell someone's happy just by looking at how they sleep?

Santana decides that maybe it's just her.

She's kinda happy staring at Quinn like that.

_**That Morning**_

Santana wakes up and immediately gets disappointed by the cold spot beside her. She takes a peek at Quinn's clock on top of her bedside table. It's 9 in the morning and soon as she realizes this, she remembers Quinn telling her she has classes as early as 8.

Santana groans in frustration, covering her face with Quinn's pillow.

_Damn. It also smells like cherry blossoms._

She inhales the smell of the pillow and curses at how creepy it was.

It's impossible to go to sleep now.

She reaches out for her phone under her pillow and immediately sees a message from Quinn.

**Morning, Satan. Left the campus map on top of the dresser. The dining hall's at the second floor. The food's not that impressive. If you want to get the best food, go to Silliman. Check the map and remember you're at Branford. I'll be back at 1. I'll take you to lunch.**

Santana smiles, actually smiles.

There's another text from Quinn.

**Also left the key to my bike's lock. It's parked downstairs, 0356.**

Santana's eyes widen in mixed surprise and amusement.

Quinn in a bike?

_Hot._

Santana uncharacteristically smiles—the bashful kind of smile—and rolls on the bed twice before giving into the shriek she so wanted to let out.

She shrieks as silently as she can for reasons she's not sure of.

But she's never been this giddy in her whole life.

She's so giddy, she's gonna die.

Her giddiness makes her dial Rachel's number.

It only takes one ring.

_Santana Lopez! You dirty little bird!_

Santana laughs even though it's really not that funny, "Berry, I can't believe I'm gonna say this but I'm really so happy."

_Oooohhh. Imma put you on speaker. Kurt's here_—

_You bitch, what's up? Did you kiss and make up?_

"No, you pervs."

_How did the grand declaration happen?_ Rachel asks.

_I bet Quinn was shocked._ Kurt adds.

Then, she remembers the mess she actually made.

"We'll talk about that once I get home," Santana says, suddenly feeling guilty about dragging Rachel into it.

_So, why are you so happy?_ Rachel asks, still very chirpy.

_If this is about sex, don't even continue._

Santana laughs, again; and she doesn't know why she keeps laughing but she's never laughed like this much in her whole life.

"Quinn rides a bike here in Yale!"

There's that tentative silence again—the one she's close to getting used to when it comes to Rachel and Kurt.

_And that makes you happy?_ Rachel asks, and Santana almost sees the look on her face.

"Come to think of it, I mean. Quinn in a bike," Santana tries to make sense.

_Whipped._ Kurt comments and Santana knows he rolled his eyes at that.

"What? Don't you think it's cute?"

Another split-second silence and then, Kurt and Rachel burst laughing.

"Hey! What are you two laughing about?"

_Aww, Santana. You just called Quinn cute._ Rachel says in that annoying tone of hers

"What? No, I didn't."

_Yes, bitch. You just did._ Kurt says and Santana knows he was smiling while saying it.

"Whatever," Santana rolls her eyes. "I just called to tell you that Quinn will be spending the weekend at our place. Please behave."

_Don't you work fast, Santana Lopez._ Kurt teases. _Already taking a girl home._

She hears Rachel laugh in the background.

"Whatever. I gotta go."

Bye, Santana. Please tell Quinn I'm saying hello and I miss her. Rachel says.

"Fine, whatever."

_Don't be jealous of me, Santana. _Rachel mocks.

"Whatever. Bye," she says and then hangs up.

Well, looks like it's a bike tour of Yale University.

_**Hours Later**_

It was kind of fun to tour the university (on Quinn's bike). She saw all kinds of awesome infrastructure that pretty much fascinated her—although she will never admit how fascinating it was.

She might have taken a few pictures and bullied nerdy freshmen who so gladly took pictures of her when she asked them to. The parts of the university she went to were absolutely amazing and there's no doubt in her mind that Quinn belongs here.

It's only half past 12 when she arrived back at Quinn's dorm. She took a quick shower and sat by Quinn's bed, waiting for the blonde to arrive because as she said she'll take her to lunch.

_It's not a date of course, I just want free food._

Or so Santana says.

She's in the middle of posting a few of her photos on _Instagram_ when the sight of Quinn's roommate's bed caught her attention. She remembers what Quinn said about the bed—legend has it that it smells bad.

Santana thinks, _if it's that bad, why would Quinn keep it here?_

It's a bit random, yes, that she suddenly wants to know for sure how the bed smells. It's one of her unconscious habits—to do random things.

It was random to search through Brody's things and random as hell to just search through the trash bin in the bathroom of Rachel and Kurt's apartment but hey, she found things out by doing random things.

So, there she is, tip-toeing her way to Quinn's roommate's bed.

It does look clean and she instantly wonders how something so clean-looking could smell that bad; but then she thinks appearance is always deceiving.

At the back of Santana's mind, she just wants to know why Quinn so badly wanted to share the bed last night.

_It's hope._

And it's something she isn't gonna admit out loud, ever.

She kneels by the side of the bed and prays for the first time in years that she wouldn't regret ever putting her face close to that freaking bed.

She slowly puts her face close to the top surface of the bed and carefully inhales the smell of it.

At the back of Santana's mind, there's actually _hope_.

The bed smells like lavender.

A big grin marches across Santana's face.

_Oh Quinn._

_**Lunch**_

Quinn takes her to lunch. She sits across Quinn inside _Bar_, which is—Santana learned—Quinn's favorite restaurant outside of Yale.

"How was your tour?" Quinn asks.

"It was okay," Santana replies, taking a bite from her slice of pizza; trying hard to make it sound like she didn't enjoy walking (biking) around.

"Just okay?" Quinn asks again, taking a sip from her glass of iced tea.

"Just okay."

Quinn only nods.

They start eating in silence with Santana occasionally refreshing her _Instagram _dashboard, checking if people have liked her Yale photos. She posted three photos, Kurt and Rachel liked all of them.

The silence is quite nice until Quinn's phone—which is resting on top of the table—beeps and gets Santana's attention.

It even baffles her because if she read it right, someone named _Dr. Matthews _just texted Quinn.

Quinn quickly takes her phone and reads it, then obviously replies.

Santana wants to ask who _Dr. Matthews _is but something inside her tells her to save it for later. She decides to trust her instincts.

_Dr. Matthews _can wait.

_**On the train ride to New York**_

Apparently, the mystery of Dr. Matthews cannot wait any longer.

They barely talked since Santana saw _Dr. Matthews' _name on Quinn's phone. It shouldn't be a big deal but Santana has a gut feeling that it is.

It's almost 5 in the afternoon and they'll reach New York in 45 minutes. If this is something they need to talk about, they probably need the entire 45 minutes to do so.

"Who's Dr. Matthews?" Santana asks in such a Santana Lopez way that she knows Quinn wouldn't even bother to try to hide it.

Santana is right because Quinn immediately tenses beside her.

"You can tell me," Santana says because it's true.

There's a moment of silence with only the sounds of people chatting around them can be heard.

Quinn swallows and then says with shaky voice, "He's my therapist."

Santana is surprised but she tries hard not to show it, "Like a psych therapist?"

Quinn shakes her head and Santana can feel that Quinn is even more tensed now.

"Hey," Santana says softly, searching Quinn's eyes.

Quinn looks away, "He's a physical therapist. I've been on therapy for two months now."

This time, Santana can't hide it anymore. "What? Why?" she asks hurriedly, surprised.

"I fell down the stairs two months ago. It was kinda bad."

This renders Santana speechless.

"Just the basic ones, treadmill and the bars; they still feel numb sometimes when I get too tired. That's why I have a bike, that's for exercise. I haven't used dresses for quite a while now because my classes are inside cold rooms and my legs would feel numb easily."

Santana swallows and is still unable to say anything.

She remembers the reason why seeing Dr. Matthews' name on Quinn's phone is such a big deal.

It is a big deal because the last time Quinn got associated with a doctor, everybody knows how bad that turned out to be.

_**Senior Year**_

Brittany sobs silently beside her and Santana tries her best not to do the same. Across her, Rachel—still in her wedding dress—is doing the same, crying as Finn holds her firmly in place; beside Finn is Puck with his hands covering his face.

Santana remembers vividly the look on Mr. Schuester's face after he took the call from a blocked number.

_He is Quinn's emergency contact._

And Santana remembers vividly how her heart stopped the moment her teacher—with teary eyes and shaky voice—said, "Quinn's been in an accident."

That's why they're here, inside the waiting room, waiting for good news. It's been five hours.

She's tired and sleepy like everybody else but she couldn't get herself to rest because inside the OR just a few rooms from where they are is Quinn, fighting for her life—just when she had put it back together.

"She was going to Yale," Brittany says in between sobs.

Santana couldn't say anything.

From the small window of the room, she could see Judy pacing back and forth, obviously sobbing. She could also see Mr. Schuester sitting on one of the benches looking worried like he is Quinn's father. He has tears in his eyes. Aside from Rachel and Brittany, he's the one who has not stopped crying since they got the news.

The rest of New Directions gathered at Coach Sylvester's house. She's the only one who was not shaken to take the kids to a place where they can calm down and wait for news. Everybody else was just shocked and they all started crying but Coach Sylvester told the kids to calm down.

It's not because Coach Sylvester doesn't care. Everybody knows Coach Sylvester loves Quinn like she is her own. Santana knows this and she confirmed it when the coach ran up to her before she made it to Finn's car, "Call me soon as you know Quinn's okay. I don't know if I can handle knowing she's not."

Six hours.

It's been _six hours _since they started the surgery. It's been _six hours _and the closest they got to an update was a doctor saying, "She's lost a lot of blood."

Santana knows, because her father is a doctor, that _six hours _of surgery is not a good thing.

It takes _six hours _of Quinn's surgery for Santana to do something she hasn't done for a long time now—pray.

She closes her eyes and despite the tears that finally fell upon doing so, she goes on and prays to the God she isn't sure she believes in. She prays to _God _because Quinn believes in Him. If Quinn Fabray believes in something, there's no reason not to believe in it.

Santana's prayers were all about giving Quinn a chance. She's crying silently with her eyes closed and she prays, hard, that just for once Quinn gets a chance.

She feels Brittany's arms around her and for the first time in Santana's life, she felt really scared. Quinn is inside the operating room fighting for a life that was never fair to her.

Santana doesn't open her eyes until she hears the door open. With teary eyes, Mr. Schue meets her eyes and smiles—the kind of smile that would be annoying on regular days—then says, "Quinn is out of surgery. The doctors say she was tough."

Santana breaks down in tears after that.

And then she laughs, "Quinn is tough."

Rachel laughs with her—both of their eyes teary because they both know _Quinn is tough_. On normal days, Santana would hate her for it.

But today, Santana is thankful for it.

_Quinn is tough_.

They're allowed to visit Quinn the next day, inside the ICU. One by one, they took turns. After Mr. Schuester, Brittany came in and then Rachel. Puck came in after the two girls and then Santana came in next.

In the middle of all the equipment around her, Quinn looked small. The left side of Quinn's body is bandaged heavily—her arms, legs. She has gauze wrapped around her head. Her face had deep and big cuts. The oxygen mask attached to her reminded Santana that Quinn cannot do anything on her own at this point—even breathing.

Santana wants to shake Quinn's shoulder and wake her up and tell her to cut her some slack. She wants Quinn to throw her against the lockers or slap her repeatedly. She wants Quinn to stand up and tell her that she's being an idiot. She wants Quinn to do anything—anything—that would tell Santana that she's alive, and that she's gonna be okay.

Santana tries her best not to cry but her eyes have betrayed her. Quinn is in coma and she probably would not know that Santana cried so, Santana gives in. She cries the way she did this morning after Mr. Schuester said Quinn is out of surgery.

But this time, she cries because Quinn is tough.

She holds Quinn's hand and Santana cries even more because Quinn doesn't clasp her hand back.

Santana thinks she probably never will.

_**Today**_

Santana has not said a word since Quinn told her about falling down the stairs.

Under normal circumstances, she would have laughed knowing that Quinn had a moment of stupidity and that led her to falling down the stairs.

Quinn is still tense beside her and though she can't see Quinn's expression fully, she knows that saying this means a lot to Quinn.

Santana doesn't know what to say so she only does the best thing she knows.

She takes Quinn's hand in hers.

_This time, Quinn clasps her hand back._

And Santana smiles because Quinn is tough.

* * *

So, I might have cried while writing some parts of this chapter. Who else did? Review?

Forgive my mistakes, typo errors and whatnot, I have bad eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Getting over Quinn's sad train revelation is easy for Santana; she just thinks of Rachel—and thinking of Rachel immediately reminds her that there are far more scary things waiting for her than Quinn's weekly treadmill appointments.

Santana holds her breath as they ascend the stairs that will lead them to Rachel and Kurt—and Santana's impending doom.

"Are you sure you can handle Rachel?" Santana asks Quinn nervously—and secretly asks herself, too.

Quinn nods, "I should be offended, really; her coming to me for help just because I got pregnant at 16."

"No, it's not—"

"I know, Santana," Quinn says as they turn the corner toward the apartment. "I'm here because I am Rachel's friend and to save you and Kurt from her hormones."

Santana fakes a laugh.

Maybe, it was a real laugh but she's probably laughing at herself.

She stares hard at the door as they approach it, wishing to all the gods that Rachel is caught in traffic somewhere in Sahara Desert or anywhere else just so she wouldn't have to face her and her ridiculous reaction when Quinn hugs her and tells her about morning sickness.

Santana knocks and she looks at Quinn nervously. She realizes that Quinn is looking at her in a weird kind of way because she freaking knocked.

_Why did I knock? I live here._

Santana admits in that exact moment that she's screwed—big time.

Kurt opens the door and squeals upon seeing Quinn; Quinn kind of squeals, too and they hug in such a jolly way that makes Santana's stomach churn.

Kurt breaks his hug with Quinn and steps back to look at the both of them with that pathetic, creepy smile on his face.

_Oh my God._

Santana closes the door behind her and instantly tries to slip back to her full Lima Heights mode. "What?" she asks, trying to sound irritated but she's sure it didn't sound like that at all because Kurt is still in that daydreaming mode, still looking at the both of them.

"Oh my God, look at you two," he says as he sighs in sheer contentment.

It makes Santana want to kill him.

"So, are you—"

"Where's Rachel?" Santana hurriedly asks before Kurt could say something that will destroy Santana's life for the rest of it.

Almost like on remote control, Rachel emerges from her side of the apartment and squeals upon seeing Quinn.

"Quinn!" Rachel—well—squeals.

"Rachel," Quinn greets in that calm tone of hers.

Rachel runs toward Quinn and hugs her and Santana watches all of this unfold in front of her and she suddenly just wishes to die right there and disappear forever.

Rachel and Kurt drag Quinn toward the living room with Santana trailing them.

"So…" Kurt opens up again, with that teasing tone in his voice. "You two, huh?"

Santana's entire system stops.

Quinn looks at him, clueless that Kurt is thinking she's with Santana—as in _with _Santana.

Rachel flashes her mega-watt smile and then looks at Quinn and then at Santana and then at Quinn again, "How are you _and _Santana?"

Santana bites her lip, so hard that she almost eats it.

Quinn rolls her eyes, "Well, we didn't kill each other on the train. So, I guess that's progress."

Kurt laughs, "_Kill_? Is that what you call it these days?" He finishes this with a wink and Santana just really, really wants to die.

If Quinn thought what Kurt said was weird, she sure didn't show it.

Quinn looks at Rachel who's still in that beaming smile of hers, "Why are you smiling like that?"

"I'm just happy," Rachel says.

"You are?" Quinn asks. "You're not freaked out?"

_They're totally talking about different things._

"Well, it was unexpected but hey, it happens," Rachel says.

_Just kill me now_, Santana screams in her head.

"I'm happy for you, Rachel," Quinn says smilingly and that's where Santana sees it.

Kurt's smile disappears and is replaced with knotted eyebrows as Rachel smile fades as well and looks at Quinn with all the confusion in the world.

Santana just freezes entirely. Just like when she was forced out of the closet and that time when she ran away from Louisville, she has no idea what to do.

"Me?" Rachel asks, forcing a smile with her I'm-confused look still on.

Kurt looks at Santana.

Santana looks at Kurt.

_Oh God, help me_, Santana prays.

Rachel smilingly shakes her head, "But you and—"

Quinn's phone rings.

_Thank you, God. That was fast._

Quinn quickly checks her phone and sees Judy's name.

"I have to take this," Quinn says, standing from her place on the couch and heads to the kitchen.

Rachel almost yells, "Care to tell us what's—"

"Shhhhhhhhhh," Santana shushes her.

"—going on?" Rachel whispers.

"You did not tell her, didn't you?" Kurt whisper-screams, if that's possible.

Santana opens her mouth to say something but no words come out.

"What did you tell her?" Rachel asks with big eyes, smoke, almost coming out of her nose.

"Berry, you have to cooperate with me here. I—" Santana stops mid-sentence, unsure how to proceed.

"You what?" Rachel asks impatiently.

"I—"

"You?" Kurt insists.

"I—" Santana sighs. "I might have told Quinn that you're," she pauses, faking a cough.

"That I'm what?"

Santana presses her lips and looks away. "Pregnant," Santana drops the bomb and recites 10 prayers at the same time.

"WHAT?" Rachel asks, shrieking, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

"Shhhhh," Santana shushes her again.

Kurt laughs quietly, mocking Santana _and _Rachel.

"Oh my God, Santana!" Rachel shrieks her most silent shriek, trying hard not to let Quinn hear her.

"Cooperate with me Berry," Santana says, frantically darting looks between Rachel and Quinn, who is still busy talking to Judy on the phone.

Kurt puts his hands on his hips, "Let me guess, you can't do it?"

Santana opens her mouth to say something but again, no words come out.

Kurt scoffs.

Santana shoots him daggers.

And while Santana and Kurt are eye-murdering each other, Rachel is hyperventilating.

"I can't believe you said that, Santana! Why would you lie to her like that and drag me to it?"

"Because she's scared," Kurt says with a laugh.

"This is not funny, Kurt! Oh my God!" Rachel says, throwing her hands in the air.

"Just buy me time, Berry. Just pretend you're pregnant until I figure it out," Santana says, partly begging, partly just annoyed at Rachel's antics.

Kurt laughs again, "Coward."

"I'm not gonna do this, Santana! I'm not gonna put myself out there and lie to Quinn just because you can't tell her about your feelings!"

_Again, Santana just really, really wants to die._

Santana rolls her eyes, "I'm just asking you to buy me time, Berry. And I don't have feelings!"

"No!" Rachel protests. "I'm not gonna do it!"

"Santana, say please," Kurt teases.

"Shut up, Hummel."

"Berry, I'm gonna ask you just this one time to cover up for me."

"No!" Rachel protests again.

Santana sighs.

_And again wishes to just die because now, Rachel is gonna tell Quinn. And really, Santana's death would be the better and safer choice for everyone._

Rachel stands face-to-face with Santana and says with conviction (they both miss Kurt's fake cough, trying to get their attention), "When Quinn comes back, I'm gonna tell her!"

"Tell me what?"

There stands Quinn in front of Rachel and Santana.

"I was trying to cough you girls out of it," Kurt says, pressing his lips in tension.

Rachel looks at Quinn and then at Santana.

Santana tries to hold Rachel's attention to her, pleading because she's honestly not ready to hear Rachel tell Quinn that she lied because she can't confess her—

"You're going to tell me what?" Quinn asks again when no one would speak.

Santana swallows so hard that she felt like she swallowed her gums and teeth.

Rachel looks back at Quinn.

Quinn looks at Rachel, eyes questioning what she just heard.

Kurt is staring at Rachel without blinking, waiting for the brunette's next move.

"To tell you that Santana is…" Rachel pauses to look at Santana and sees that—given Santana's face right now—she might actually die of heart attack, "…in love."

Santana's entire system stops.

_What the fuck is air?_

Kurt's jaws drop.

Rachel doesn't know what she just said.

Santana looks at Quinn who's equally shocked and… _nervous_?

Rachel sighs then secretly clenches her fists, "…with the idea of taking me to the doctor."

Santana thinks she might have really fainted somewhere in between that short, horrible silence. And now she's back to thanking the heavens for Rachel Berry and her kind, mean, manipulating, jaw-dropping heart.

Kurt starts breathing again.

"What?" Quinn finally recovers.

Rachel sighs—again—in utter defeat, "I mean, she had been suggesting that I see the doctor soon."

Kurt has recovered enough to help Rachel in this situation, "But Rachel has been reluctant." He nods, trying to convince Quinn, "So, Rachel used the words _in love _to actually give you a picture of how Santana cares for Rachel and her baby's well-being. Not that Santana is _in love_. You don't have feelings, right Santana?"

_Torture_.

Santana nods unconsciously.

Quinn mouths an _oh_.

"You're really okay?" Quinn manages, obviously still lost at what just transpired but trying nonetheless to act like she understands Rachel's situation.

Rachel nods.

And if Santana underestimated Rachel acting skills before, that's all gone now because Rachel is in full I-am-pregnant-and-I-don't-know-who-the-father-is mode.

"I'm okay, I'm just shaken," Rachel says. "It's the first real time I talked about it outside of Santana and Kurt."

Whatever magic Rachel put on Quinn, it worked.

Quinn is looking at Rachel with sympathy and pride, "You're gonna be okay, Rachel."

"Thank you for being here, Quinn."

Quinn nods and hugs Rachel; the brunette hugs her back but her eyes were shooting death glares at Santana.

_You owe me_, Rachel mouths.

And Santana agrees.

She owes Rachel, big time.

_**That Night**_

They're sitting by the dinner table, just finished eating the food they ordered from a nearby Chinese restaurant. Kurt and Rachel are sitting at the opposite ends of the rectangular table while Quinn and Santana are sitting close to each other—with Santana's arm wrapped around Quinn's shoulders.

Santana honestly doesn't notice this and if Quinn did, she sure does not show it.

Kurt and Rachel notice this; and Rachel, as much as she wants to really choke Santana to death, she thinks they're adorable together. Kurt thinks Santana is possessed by a good, well-rounded spirit because everything about Santana is soft when she's around Quinn.

She's seen Santana soft with Brittany; the kind of soft that almost erases the Santana he knows out of the picture. The Santana with Quinn is soft in a way that retains the _real _Santana Lopez—the one with the clever insults but without the malice. Santana _is_ Santana Lopezwith Quinn, probably even better.

Kurt doesn't want to compare but if he is to choose, he likes Quinn's Santana better.

"How's Finn anyway?" Quinn says, leaning comfortably into Santana's side.

They all look at Rachel.

Rachel smiles, "He's fine. He's having the time of his life studying."

Santana laughs, "I must say, I never pegged Finn as the studying type."

"I think, he's gonna be a good teacher," Quinn says, nodding. "And a good father, too," she adds, looking at Rachel and Rachel smiles so unbelievably convincing that if this isn't Santana's fault, she would believe that she's actually pregnant.

"Thank you, Quinn," Rachel says, still in that acting smile of hers.

"How are you anyway?" Kurt diverts their attention to Quinn. "We haven't heard much since Valentine's," he then smiles mischievously at Santana.

Santana only rolls her eyes.

Quinn misses this.

"I am doing great," Quinn says smilingly.

Santana only stares. Quinn—in this proximity—is stunning.

"How are your acting classes?" Rachel asks, now with full and honest interest.

"Is it good? Are you gonna be in any movies soon?" Kurt asks playfully, also with full interest.

Quinn laughs, "No. You wouldn't see me in any upcoming movies."

Rachel mocks her disappointment, "I was really looking forward to judging your acting skills."

Quinn laughs again, "No worries, Rachel. I wouldn't be a threat to your career."

"I was kidding, Quinn. Could you imagine it? Kurt and I as the hottest Broadway stars and you, as Hollywood's next Natalie Portman—come on! That's a power-friendship!"

They all laugh at this.

"Uh? Hello? I'm here," Santana says.

"Santana, you can be our other friend. The one who gets to be famous because of us," Rachel winks. "And then they'll make you a reality show and bam! Instant celebrity."

Santana laughs, this time a real one, "That's not so bad."

"Quinn, you didn't answer my question! How are your classes?" Rachel asks turning to Quinn.

"My classes are fine but I don't have acting classes anymore."

Kurt and Rachel's eyes widen, "What?"

"Do you take them on your third year?" Kurt asks in disbelief. "Is this Yale's system?"

Quinn laughs, "No, Kurt. I'm only taking Chemistry and Physics classes right now."

This is the part that gets Santana's attention. "Chemistry and Physics?" she repeats, not believing what Quinn just said.

Rachel and Kurt have their I'm-confused faces on.

"I switched programs."

The three almost reacts in unison.

"What?" Santana asks, surprised.

"When?" Rachel asks, just as surprised.

"To what?" Kurt adds, also surprised.

Quinn laughs, "Okay. I know I haven't told anyone about this but don't freak out. I've decided to take Pre-Med studies instead."

Rachel's eyes widen. Kurt's jaws drops.

And Santana?

She just stared at Quinn—pride and all.

"Wow," Rachel finally says, still with wide eyes in surprise.

"That's wonderful, Quinn," Kurt says, this time with a big smile.

Santana just can't say anything. It's an understatement to say that she's _mesmerized._

Quinn nods shyly. "I really wanted acting and all but I figured it's not the path for me. So, I talked to my mom and said that I wanted to take Pre-Med and she agreed. She was really happy."

"Oh my God," Rachel says, the news finally sinking in. "That's great news!" she stands and walks over to hug Quinn, who warmly hugs her back. "You're gonna be the best doctor in the whole wide world," Rachel says upon breaking the hug.

"Congratulations, Quinn," Kurt congratulates her, also walking over to Quinn to give her a hug.

Santana just smiles proudly beside Quinn. She doesn't have words. Santana will never admit this but when Quinn was talking about deciding to take Pre-Med, she saw that spark in Quinn's eyes that told her that Quinn is sure about this—that Quinn wants this; and Santana is proud of her for that.

Santana stands up as Rachel and Kurt continue to tell Quinn about how happy they are for her. She walks over to the cabinet and takes out the wine that Rachel saves for special occasions.

She coughs to get their attention, "Does this news deserve Rachel Berry's preserved white wine?"

The other three laughs.

"Good idea!" Rachel says, with sincere happiness.

Rachel walks over to Santana and takes the wine from her to prepare.

Santana smiles at Quinn and finally says, "I'm proud of you, Quinn."

Quinn smiles so big that Santana thinks it might have hurt her face. "Thank you, Santana."

Kurt notices their exchange but only nudges Rachel about it. Rachel sees it and only smiles.

Maybe it's worth it to cover up for Santana after all.

_**Later That Night**_

Santana sits alone by the living room staring blankly at the muted television holding an envelope and a piece of paper.

"Santana?" Rachel calls out in a sleepy manner.

Santana turns to her, "You're still awake? It's past 12."

Rachel rubs her eyes and walks over to Santana, "I got thirsty. Why are you still up? We're taking Quinn to the New York Public Library in the morning, meet Finn and Blaine for lunch, and go to Staten Island for the sunset. It's gonna be a long day."

"I know," Santana sighs helplessly.

Rachel then notices the envelope Santana is holding. She asks, "What's that?"

"Nothing," Santana replies as she stuffs the paper and the envelope under her pillow.

"Santana…"

"It's nothing, okay?"

Rachel sighs heavily, "Fine."

They just sit there: Rachel looking at Santana, Santana at the TV.

"What?" Santana asks when she notices Rachel staring.

"Aren't you supposed to say _thank you, Rachel_?"

Santana rolls her eyes.

"You are so ungrateful," Rachel said laughingly, shaking her head.

Santana rolls her eyes again and then laughs, "Fine. Thank you."

"That's all I needed to hear but you're not welcome," Rachel says. "How long are you planning to _figure it out_?"

Santana shrugs, "Just…"

"Santana, I can only be pregnant for a while, until Quinn notices my belly isn't growing at all."

Santana nods helplessly, "Just buy me time. I'll figure it out."

"You better."

Santana sighs.

"How's Quinn?" Rachel asks as she turns to look at Santana's side of the apartment.

"Comfortable," Santana says laughingly. "She's invaded my space and now, I'm sleeping on the couch."

"You can share the bed with her," Rachel says playfully, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh my God, Berry," Santana laughs.

Rachel stands and then walks toward the kitchen, "Wanky."

Santana laughs again, "Don't even go there."

They share a brief silence as Rachel serves herself water. Rachel then walks back to the living room to find Santana holding the envelope and the piece of paper again.

Rachel waits for her to say something.

Santana sighs heavily, "It's a letter from ."

Rachel's eyes widen in surprise but opts not to say anything yet.

"Isabelle wants me to quit waiting tables and work for her as her assistant."

"Santana…" Rachel only manages. "That's…"

"I won't accept it anyway."

"Why?" Rachel asks in full concern as she sits back beside Santana.

"She sent me this letter three weeks ago. I doubt the offer still stands and even so, do you really think I can do what Kurt used to do? I mean, even Kurt—Kurt Hummel—quit the job. How am I gonna—"

"Santana," Rachel cuts her. "First, Kurt quit the job not because it was hard for him but because he had to choose between NYADA and Vogue. Second, I'm sure Isabelle knows what she's doing when she offered you this job. And third," Rachel pauses to smile, "I never pegged Santana Lopez as the quitting type."

Santana only looks at her.

"You don't bail, Santana. At least not the Santana I know."

Santana sighs in defeat and then rolls her eyes, "It's not like the offer still stands."

"Do you want to take on the offer?"

Santana shrugs, "I really don't know. I—"

"You can tell me, Santana. Come on, I'm basically lying to Quinn to cover up for you. You can trust me."

Santana looks at Rachel hesitantly.

"Is this about Quinn going taking the doctor route?"

Santana sighs.

Rachel smiles.

"Have you seen her today, Berry? When she was talking about her classes, she was just—"

"So happy," Rachel nods, "I know. I saw it."

"Like finally, she found what she really wants to do."

"Do you think is your thing? You know, your med school if you're Quinn."

"I don't know what I want."

"I don't believe that."

Santana huffs, "Tell me something about me, Ms. Know-It-All."

"We all know what we want, Santana. Sometimes, we're just too afraid to do it."

"That's deep."

Rachel only smiles and nods. She doesn't say anything but she sees it—the light in Santana's eyes that's almost similar to Quinn's earlier. Something clicked inside Rachel. She felt like she's finally close to that point where she's gonna stop worrying about Santana's future.

Rachel sees it—like finally, Santana can start _really _figuring it out.

"You didn't answer my question, Santana. Do you think _Vogue _is your thing?"

"I really, honestly don't know what I want, Rachel but I know what I don't."

"And what is that?"

"I don't want waiting tables and getting hit on by older men for what? A dollar? I don't want that anymore."

Rachel smiles, "Call Isabelle tomorrow."

Santana looks at Rachel.

Rachel reaches out for Santana's hand, "It's gonna be okay. You can do this."

Santana only sighs and turns her attention back to the muted television.

"Besides, I'm pretty sure a future doctor and a future editor-in-chief would look so good together."

This makes Santana snap her attention back to Rachel.

Rachel laughs, "What? She makes you better."

Santana shakes her head, "No. It's not—"

"It's okay to admit it, Santana. She makes you better in ways you don't notice but I do. Kurt and I notice it. You don't know it yet. Quinn doesn't know it yet but you're at your best with Quinn around. Back in high school, it's a challenge. Right now, I would dare say its inspiration."

Santana only looks away.

And Rachel only smiles proudly.

"And it's okay," she says because it's true.

Santana doesn't say anything but thinks of the letter and Quinn. She thinks _maybe _Rachel is right.

But she will never admit that.

At least not anytime soon.

* * *

Reviews?


	5. Chapter 5

I just really want to thank everyone for reading and reviewing this story. NOTE: I made a few changes in formatting, some of which you really won't notice. I don't know why I even said that haha : ) But I hope you like this one.

* * *

Monday morning, Santana sat by the living room all anxiously waiting for Rachel to finish the dishes.

Her palms were starting to get sweaty of anticipation and she rocks her legs harder each minute that passed by.

"Berry, if this doesn't turn out to be something really important, trust me, I'm gonna burry you alive and be glad while doing it!" she yells.

Rachel yells back, "Trust me Santana, with the amount of information I have, you'll probably want to keep me around for a while."

Santana rolls her eyes as Kurt emerges from his side of the apartment, face mask and all. "Has she spilled it yet?" Kurt asks sitting beside her, anticipation obvious in his voice.

Santana again just rolls her eyes and tries to tell herself to get over what happened yesterday, Sunday, when THEY'RE supposed to tour Quinn around Manhattan.

It turned out to be a disaster because Sunday felt like a blur.

A fucking blur.

It's mostly because Rachel practically owned Quinn from the moment they woke up to the moment they came back to the apartment after they toured Staten Island back and forth via the ferry.

Fucking blur.

Rachel toured Quinn inside the New York Public Library, Museum of Modern Art, and then sat beside Quinn through all the ferry rides.

The only time Santana got to talk to her was when Quinn purposely sat beside her on lunch and whenever Quinn wanted to take pictures with her and whenever Rachel zoned out which was twice.

Fucking twice.

She was stuck all day with Kurt who, in all fairness, wasn't so bad at all but come on!

Santana was thankful that Quinn asked HER to take her to the station because if Quinn didn't, Rachel was already halfway out the door, getting ready to call a cab to take Quinn down to the Central Station.

That's the only part of Sunday that wasn't blurred-that one precious hour she got to spend with her. And they didn't even talk that much. Quinn is tired and she's frustrated with Rachel.

But Quinn took her hand as they walked amongst the sea of people. Quinn occasionally asked her random questions. And Quinn, before hopping on the train, just randomly hugged her and told her, "See you soon, yes?"

Santana wanted to believe it wasn't a question.

"Where did you just go?" Kurt asks her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"The past, yesterday! I can't believe I let Rachel smother Quinn like that!"

Rachel walks toward them from the kitchen as she dry her hands on a towel.

"Nobody smothered anyone!" she says, shaking her head. "It's not my fault you didn't have the balls to take Quinn's attention from me."

Kurt chuckles and then sing-songs, "Santana's balls aren't big enough."

This drives Santana crazy, "Really, Berry? You were all over her!"

Rachel raises an eyebrow, "And since when did you let me get on your way?"

This shuts her up.

"Buuuurrrn," Kurt snaps his gayest snap and then high fives Rachel in that sassy way of theirs.

Rachel shrugs, "I'm just saying. You could've spent the entire day with her and probably my pretend pregnancy could be over by now."

Annoyed, Santana shakes her head. "It doesn't matter now. Just spill," she says.

Rachel rolled her eyes in such a way that it almost mirrors Santana's.

"Okay, so I talked to Quinn yesterday," Rachel starts.

"Obviously," Santana deadpans.

The only reason she was able to get over Sunday was because Rachel told her that Quinn told her a lot of things—the kind of things Santana would never have the courage to ask even if she is dying to know.

"Fine," Rachel says, straightening up on her seat across Santana. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything, obviously."

"Ugh," Rachel huffs in frustration. "There are a lot of things—"

"How is she?"

Rachel looks at her curiously.

"You could've asked me a dozen of questions—like is she dating anyone—but you asked me that?"

Kurt softens, "You really care about her, do you?"

"I…"

Rachel smiles, "It's okay, Santana."

Defeated, Santana sighs, "I… She told me she fell two months ago and she needed to start therapy again. I just… I wonder how she's dealing with that. I mean—"

"That's tough," Kurt says, now also concerned.

Rachel nods, "I was literally speechless when she told me about it."

With another sigh, "So, did she say anything?"

"She's back to her regular therapy sessions every other week and she's okay and she told me not to worry about her."

Santana smiles sadly, "This sucks."

Rachel chuckles, "You know what's funny?"

Santana looks at her.

"She told me to tell you not to worry about her—in case you ask."

This makes Santana smile.

Smilingly, Rachel says, "She knows you care."

"Yeah?"

Rachel nods.

"What else do you know?" Kurt says in that gossipy voice of his.

Rachel laughs, "You just can't help it."

Kurt raises both of his hands, "I must admit I have invested for this."

Santana and Rachel laugh.

"Well, we basically just talked about classes and med school—and pregnancy tips."

This makes Santana and Kurt laugh, so hard that it hurt their stomach.

"Oh God, stop it, Berry," Santana says in between laughs.

Rachel rolls her eyes, "And her aquatic therapy will start next weekend because she skipped it last Saturday when she came here to give me tips about morning sickness."

"I really want to be sorry, Berry but I'm not. You did a good job," Santana teases.

"I also happen to know that she is seeing someone—"

Santana freezes.

"Ooooooh," Kurt teases.

"—might be seeing someone, or are they dating—"

"Berry!"

Rachel laughs, "What?"

"Is she seeing someone?" Santana asks, secretly dreading, fuming, and dying.

Rachel only looks at her, teasing her with her refusal to say something.

"You're a bitch."

"Say 'please' or I won't spill. It's about time we learn to be courteous to one another."

"No way!"

Rachel shrugs, "Well, no 'please', no details."

"Whatever," Santana rolls her eyes, "just tell me."

Rachel shakes her head.

"Seriously?" Santana asked, freaked out.

"Seriously," Rachel affirms.

Kurt giggles.

"Shut it, Hummel."

Kurt covers his mouth with his hand but still couldn't stop his laughter. Rachel could be funny sometimes.

"Come on, Berry. What? Fucking spill," Santana says impatiently.

"Nope."

Santana sighs heavily in annoyance and straightens up. "Please," she whispers so softly that one would easily miss it.

"What? I didn't quite catch that," Rachel teases, again.

Santana rolls her eyes as she stands up, "I can't do this!"

Santana then starts to walk toward her side of the apartment, her feet stomping heavily to the ground.

Rachel laughs, "Santana! Wait!"

Kurt bursts laughing again, "So mature."

Santana stops on her tracks and turns to Rachel and Kurt with a pointed look, "I asked for help, just for one time."

"Awww," Rachel says as she stands and walks over to Santana who has a disappointed look on her face. "I was just messing with you."

Santana looks away.

"Awww. How soft are you right now, Santana?" Kurt teases.

"Shut up."

Kurt chuckles.

"All I know is that someone has been trying to ask her out and she had refused her invitations—"

"Her?" Kurt and Santana simultaneously ask; both shocked.

"Didn't I mention that already?"

"No!" they yell.

Rachel laughs, "I'm sorry, it must have slipped my mind but yeah, she says she's not sure if she's gay or not but she's sure she's open to relationships like that. Yale apparently has taught her a lot of things."

Santana's jaws drop, so do Kurt's.

"She says Spencer is really nice—"

"Spencer?" Santana and Kurt ask in unison, again.

"So, you're minds are functioning as one now?" Rachel calls out on their simultaneous reactions. "And yes, the girl's name is Spencer and she's nice and smart and she loves to read the books Quinn likes to read."

Kurt and Santana exchange looks.

And that's what brings her to her next, blind move.

**SATURDAY, PHELPS GATE – YALE UNIVERSITY**

Clad in her usual jeans-shirt-leather jacket outfit, Santana stood outside Phelps Gate, waiting for Quinn.

She remembers Quinn's Saturday schedule and hopes to God that Quinn keeps a tight Saturday routine. She also hopes Quinn won't get too surprised by her _**I'm at Phelps meet me right away. Fucking freezing here **_text.

After Rachel told her about the Spencer girl, she just can't sit around and wait for things to come together. Yes, Santana is a little bit scared but she isn't stupid, she knows she's got to do something.

"What is this again?" Quinn asks in a freaked out voice as she approaches Santana.

Santana could tell she's freezing—she's in a freaking sundress without any jacket or cardigan at all. Concern took over her; thoughtlessly she asks, "What the hell were you thinking when you decided to walk around without a jacket?"

Quinn's face then mirrored confusion, which Santana missed because she was busy taking her jacket off. She hands it to Quinn.

Shocked and agape, Quinn just stared at the jacket.

"What?" Santana asks, annoyed.

Quinn slowly takes the jacket, not taking her wide eyes off the Latina and then puts it on.

"What time is your therapy?"

Quinn didn't catch that because she was too busy interpreting Santana's earlier action.

"Quinn?" Santana tries to break Quinn out of her confusion; she knows the blonde was taken aback by her decision to suddenly care whether Quinn was freezing or not.

_Shut up._

"I…" Quinn manages.

_Great_.

Quinn swallows and then shakes her head, trying to get herself back in the moment, "My therapy is in an hour and a half. Rachel told you, didn't she?"

Santana nods as she tries to hug herself to warm up.

"My classes are done, let's get you inside," Quinn says and then walks over to Santana and puts her arm around Santana's shoulder. They walk side by side with Quinn occasionally rubbing her palm on the side of Santana's arm in effort to keep her warm.

This works for Santana and she tries hard to fight the urge to smile.

**INSIDE QUINN'S DORM**

"I really hope you're not planning to make this a hobby," Quinn says as she starts to pack her therapy stuff in her pink-and-black duffel bag.

Enjoying the now-warmer environment, Santana bounces on her place on Quinn's bed, "What hobby?"

"Showing up unannounced? This is the second consecutive week, Santana."

"Well, just be thankful that I'm not here to tell you that Kurt is pregnant."

Quinn laughs and that's becoming one of Santana's favorite things in the world.

"Whatever, what are you doing here?"

"I'm coming with you to your pool therapy. I mean, who knows, you might drown yourself."

Quinn stops whatever she was doing and looks at Santana.

"What? Stop staring at me like that and don't worry, I'm not gonna stay the night. I have work tomorrow."

Quinn, again, just looks at her.

Santana rolls her eyes and hops off the bed. She walks over to Quinn who seemed confused again and then takes over her packing duties. "Just get ready, okay. I'll pack your stuff. Move," she says and then pushes Quinn gently.

"This is so weird," Quinn says under her breath but Santana doesn't miss it. Quinn then walks over to her closet and gathers her gym and swimming clothes and then walks outside.

It's only then Santana is able to let go of the breath she didn't know she was holding. Like on cue, Santana's phone beeps and flashes "Rachel Berry" with a text message.

_**Don't kill anybody.**_

She laughs, hard. Rachel could be funny sometimes.

And that's also the moment _Spencer _crosses her mind but instead of murder thoughts, confusion crosses her mind. Why didn't Quinn tell her about _Spencer _just like she didn't tell her about falling down the stairs?

She likes to think that their friendship has matured over time and she assumed that information like that should be told automatically.

Again, like on cue, her phone beeps again this time with Kurt's text message.

_**Why don't you start asking her for a change?**_

Her eyes widen at this; can Kurt read her mind now?

She sends Kurt a reply.

_**I'm so screwed up.**_

She sighs and then continues to pack Quinn's things.

Minutes later, Santana finds herself walking again, side by side with Quinn on their way to Quinn's therapist.

"Why did you pick a place outside the school?" she asks. She got her jacket back and Quinn is now comfortable in her Yale sweatshirt.

Quinn sighs and answers without looking at Santana, "None of my friends here in Yale know about the therapy and the accident. I mean, I told one person but I want to start over and my idea of starting over doesn't include me going around telling people about how I almost died. It's bad enough that I can't ride shotgun with any of my friends."

Maybe, Kurt is right. Maybe, she should start asking Quinn questions. "Is this why you didn't tell me about the fall?" she tries.

Quinn nods sadly.

Santana also nods partly in understanding, partly at loss of words.

Quinn then breaks the silence. "I just don't want people to worry about me. Rachel almost fainted when I told her. I know you don't worry about other people but still, I—"

"I worry. What do you think brought me here?" Santana says and then looks away.

Then, there's just silence after that.

**INSIDE A NEARBY AQUATIC THERAPY CENTER**

She didn't know how depressing being inside this therapy center could be.

She sits by the small bench just a couple of feet away from the above-the-ground pool made of transparent glass where Quinn and her therapist Mary are in on with the therapy. The pool is surrounded by metal bars with a few bars above and across the pool itself.

Dr. Matthews stands out of the pool, watching the therapy through the glass. He's taking notes as Quinn continues to run in place under the water, as she fights being pulled back by the leash equipment that is wrapped around her waist.

Under normal circumstances, she would find Quinn attractive in her one-piece bathing suit and all but this is Quinn's therapy clothes, as much as Santana wanted to droll over Quinn's body (which is better now more than ever), she just can't help but feel worried.

She's so worried and sad that she almost annoys herself.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

She didn't realize she's been sitting there for an hour now just playing _Candy Crush _until Mary calls the therapy off. She looks up and sees Quinn slowly walking up the pool stairs.

Instinctively, she grabs Quinn's towel and walks over to Quinn and Dr. Matthews, just in time to catch some of their conversation.

"You did great today, Quinn. We'll add some more pressure next week and then we'll work on balance. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, my feet feel a little tired but I can live," she says with a small smile.

Santana hands her the towel and Quinn accepts it gladly.

"You just have to rest it out tonight. No heavy lifting for the next two days," Dr. Matthews advices.

"Got it."

Dr. Matthews turns to Santana and says, "It's good Quinn finally bought someone with her. She's been so stubborn lately."

"Why am I not surprised?" she jokes and it earns her a glare from Quinn.

"Please remind Quinn to take her medications, okay?"

Santana nods.

"She says she's been taking them but I sometimes doubt it."

"Hey," Quinn calls them out as they walk over to the bench, "what happened to benefit of the doubt?"

Santana ignores her, "I will keep on reminding her, Dr. Matthews."

Dr. Matthews, who looks a lot like that hot doctor on Grey's Anatomy (only a less hot), smiles and says, "Alright, thank you, Santana. So, I'll go and leave you two now. See you in two weeks, Quinn. Please take a jog next weekend."

Quinn nods and then he's gone.

"Are you feeling okay?" Santana asks Quinn who sits on the bench and stretches her legs.

"Just a little worked up but I'm fine," she says and then smiles.

"I really can't piggyback you so make sure you can walk," Santana teases.

Quinn laughs gently, "You know, you're so weird."

"Why?" Santana asks nonchalantly.

"It's weird to see you like you actually seem to care for someone other than yourself."

Santana chuckles and thinks to herself, _you have no idea._

**LATER THAT NIGHT**

They are now outside of Quinn's dorm and the blonde is already fishing for her keys inside her bag when something interesting happens.

They are in the middle of a good laugh about something Cheerios-related when a voice calls out from about a couple of feet away.

Santana's mind instantly went _there_. She has an idea about how fate fucks people up and she knows this is her fate.

"Quinn!" the voice of a woman calls out and Quinn just stops entirely and looks at the direction of that voice.

Santana sees it and it drives her insane: the way Quinn's face lights up and the way Quinn smiles. It makes Santana's stomach churn because Santana may be insensitive sometimes but she's not that stupid.

The girl—brunette, wavy locks, printed dress, girly Oxford shoes and all—approaches them and Santana takes the sight in. Admittedly, the girl is pretty and she has that smile on her face that—Santana knows—is meant for Quinn.

There's no doubt in her mind. She knows who this girl is.

"How's your therapy?"

And yes, she knows about Quinn's therapy.

"It went well," Quinn says, still with that smile on her face.

The girl notices Santana and that's when Santana sees Quinn's resolve break. She's suddenly nervous. For whatever reason, Santana isn't sure she wants to know.

"Spencer, this is Santana," she starts then turns to Santana. "San, this is Spencer."

Spencer's face actually lights up, like she's really glad to meet Santana, "Wow, _the _Santana Lopez?"

Quinn chuckles in that uncharacteristic way of hers, "Yes, indeed."

Spencer turns to her, "Wow. It's good to finally meet you."

Santana nods.

"I've heard so much about you."

Santana fakes a smile, "I hope they are good things."

"Purely good things except, well, for the part about the girl fights," Spencer says.

And really, Santana wants to be mad but she can't deny that Spencer seems nice and she's pretty and she's in Yale, so she's smart.

Santana only smiles because she really can't put on her game right now.

Spencer seems to not be bothered by Santana's silence; she turns to Quinn, "Dinner?"

Quinn's jaws drop in that way you know the dinner slipped her mind. "I… uh…" she turns to Santana, "I—"

"You can join us, Santana," Spencer says.

Santana didn't have to think twice in shaking her head, "No. I gotta go back to New York."

"Are you sure?" Quinn asks Santana, guilt spreading all over her features.

Santana forces a smile, "Yeah, I'm sure. I have an early shift so I better get going."

There's this awkward silence for a while: Quinn just looks at Santana and Santana looking everywhere but Quinn.

Maybe, Spencer really is a good person because she swoops in and saves the day, "Quinn, maybe you can take Santana to the bus stop first, I'll go slip into more comfortable clothes."

Quinn turns to Spencer.

"Is that okay?"

Spencer smiles, so genuinely that it erases Santana's murder plans, "Of course. I'll see you."

Quinn smiles, "Thanks, Spence."

Spencer smiles at Quinn and then turns to Santana, "It's really nice meeting you."

Santana nods, "You too."

Spencer then disappears and the next thing Santana knows, she's standing by the bus stop with Quinn, waiting for the next bus to Union Station.

"Are you really sure you don't want to get dinner with me and Spencer?"

Santana tries to keep her stance and rolls her eyes, "Q, I'm fine. I really have an early shift."

Lie.

Her shift starts at 12 noon tomorrow.

Quinn sighs sadly.

"Besides, I don't want to keep you from your _date_," she teases, unsure if she's ready to hear Quinn's banter.

"Ugh," Quinn manages, "Rachel told you."

"Nope," she lies. "Nobody has to tell me anything."

"Am I that obvious?"

Santana shrugs.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Am I obvious?"

You know that movie scene where the girl protagonist dies a little bit inside because her guy best friend (who she has secret feelings for) tells her about another girl? Yeah, Santana now knows how that feels like.

"Yeah, you're kinda obvious," she says and then fakes a laugh, like everything is fine.

Quinn only sighs contentedly, "Well, Spencer is—"

"What time does the bus arrive?" Santana cuts her because really, there's only so much she can take.

It's not like she's gonna die out of this but she came here unprepared of seeing that look on Quinn's face earlier.

It takes Quinn aback for a split second but she collects herself right away. She peeks at her wrist watch and says, "In about five minutes."

Santana nods and then slips her hands inside the pockets of her leather jacket. She bounces on her feet and secretly swears that this is going to be the longest five minutes of her life.

Five minutes.

Nothing.

Silence.

Four minutes.

Nothing.

Silence.

Three minutes.

A car passes by, still nothing.

Silence.

Two minutes.

Another car passes by, nothing.

Silence.

One minute.

"Take the job, Santana."

Of course, like how fucked up everything is, Quinn says something on the last minute.

"What?"

"Take the job," Quinn says, meeting her eyes, "the job with Vogue."

Santana could see the bus' headlights from afar.

Thirty fucking seconds.

"I'm planning to."

Quinn nods and smiles—the kind of smile that seems proud and happy, "I'm glad. You'll do great."

One second.

"Your bus is here."

The bus stops in front of them and a couple of students get off.

"Take care, San."

And then in one moment of bravery, Santana steps closer to Quinn and kisses her cheek—it was brief, just brief enough to feel how it surprised Quinn.

"Take good care of yourself," she says and then gets on the bus.

In a matter of hours, she's back inside the apartment, curled on her bed. She thinks about everything that happened today.

It makes her wanna cry.

And maybe, if Kurt and Rachel aren't just curtains away, she probably would have cried already.

* * *

I know, I know. It's kinda sad but, reviews?

And mistakes are purely mine.


	6. Chapter 6

THANK YOU for all the nice words you have for this fic. Seriously, it makes me really happy. And I guess, I owe you guys an apology because this update has taken too long. I've been really busy and I was trying to fill the gap between this chapter and Chapter 8, so, forgive me. Just know that I'm working hard to give a decent update. But again, THANK YOU. You all have no idea how your reviews and PMs mean to me. Sorry for rambling! Here it is!

* * *

"Santana, you really have to shower," Kurt, who was sitting by the edge of her bed, says.

It's been two days since —what they all call now as—the _Spencer Incident _and Santana is yet to get off from her bed to shower. She called the bar to quit her job and called Isabelle to accept the offer. She starts on Monday so, basically, she has one whole week to mope around and feel sorry for herself.

And she already spent Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday doing so.

So maybe, Santana Lopez could be dramatic sometimes.

"You've been wearing that sweatshirt since Sunday, Santana. It's really kind of gross," Rachel says, looking at her sympathetically.

"You know, if someone said in high school that Santana Lopez' almost non-existent heart would break for Quinn Fabray and that girl Spencer, I wouldn't have believed it."

"Are you here to really say all of these things? Because I swear I could survive without you two going on about this."

Her two annoying roommates just exchange looks.

Truth is, she had been thinking.

She had been thinking about Quinn and the _Spencer Incident _and all the reasons why she's in this position in the first place. It somehow sucked—seeing Quinn's face light up like that feels like a splash of cold water to a sleeping Santana.

She couldn't believe she wasted all of her time convincing herself that _Valentine's _was a one-time thing. She couldn't help but think about Brittany and the time she spent moping around, feeling sorry for herself because Brittany chose Trouty Mouth.

Maybe, after all this time, her suspicions were right. Brittany was never the one—this, she learned to accept the moment Brittany invited her to that three-way dinner with Sam at Breadstix. _The One_ would probably never do that to her.

Maybe, the reason why it was so easy for an energy exchange to happen is because at the back of her mind, she knew that Brittany wasn't the one. Sure, at some point, she imagined a life with Brittany in the distant future—somewhere in New York with their only daughter who would have Brittany's eyes and hair. But she'll admit, that even to her, it sounded ridiculous.

Brittany is probably a bookmark and no matter how good that page in the book is, she must always turn the page.

And she did.

She'll credit it to Brittany, though—her decision to move to New York to pursue a dream she didn't know just yet. Brittany's bestfriend speech was somehow the final push that she needed to stick her head out of her comfort zone.

Somehow, she needed Brittany to let her go.

And Brittany did.

And maybe, that's something she'll always thank Brittany for—except right now, when she feels down and defeated and worst, clueless because she feels something for someone she isn't supposed to feel something for.

It's weird.

She never felt this way about Brittany. She cared about Brittany to the point where she almost gave up everything for her but with Quinn, it's different. She cares for Quinn in the way that makes her want to be something more than what she is right now—someone that Quinn could take with her when she has doctor gatherings.

She rolls her eyes at her own thoughts.

_God, I'm so pathetic._

"This is so pathetic, Santana," Kurt says matter-of-factly.

Santana rolls her eyes, "Geez. Thanks, Kurt."

"I know it's tough but you have to get back up, Santana. You're Santana Lopez and Santana Lopez doesn't stop until she gets what she wants," Rachel says.

She almost rolls her eyes at it but this is Rachel, the girl who's covering up for her moment of weakness.

"I just need time to process it, okay," she says with a sigh.

Rachel smiles a small smile as she extends her arms, "Let me hug you."

"No!"

Santana scrambles as she tries to hide under the covers as Rachel rushes to try to hug her while Kurt only giggles.

"Stay away, Berry!"

"Just one hug, Santana!"

Rachel attacks her until the girl is hugging her and she sits there stiffly.

"Join us, Kurt," Rachel calls him out.

"Don't you dare, Hummel," Santana threatens without the intended bite.

Kurt laughs as he jumps on the bed and scoots over to Santana's other side and hugs her. She's now basically sandwiched between Rachel and Kurt and she's secretly thankful for it but she will never admit that.

It makes her smile because it does make her feel better. At least she has Kurt and Rachel who both have ditched all of their plans for the past three nights just to watch rom-coms with her. Their presence makes it hurt less.

"What are you thinking about, Santana?"

She sighs, "Brittany."

"What about her?"

"I think at some point in high school I thought she was the one."

Rachel can tell the hesitance in Santana's tone but she's glad that Santana's opening up. Truth be told, she's happy to see Santana slowly tearing up her walls—sure, it took a lie and all other dramas to get Santana to be this open to them but Rachel will take it.

"We all get it wrong sometimes, Santana."

Kurt nods, "I think that there would be a long line of _not the ones _until there's one."

Santana thinks he's right.

"How do we know if we've found the one?"

Rachel smiles as she lays her head on Santana's shoulder, "I think we'll know, Santana."

_God, what is happening to me?_

Santana knows too well that they're now having a sappy roommates' moment. She almost rolls her eyes at it. How the two most annoying people in world have become her friends? That's way beyond her.

Their moment is cut short by a knock on the door.

Kurt stands up and says he'll get it and when he returns, Santana sees it—the look on Kurt's face that marches somewhere between guilt and excitement. He has a tight smile on his face as he looks at Rachel and winks.

And when the fourth person steps in, Santana could swear she had about a million murder plots for Kurt and Rachel.

_Ugh._

"Quinn!" Rachel shrieks as she jumps off the bed and runs to Quinn to hug her.

Santana couldn't take her eyes off Quinn who has an unreadable expression on her face. She seems mad but not senior year mad.

"What are you doing here?" Santana asks, trying her best not to let her shock and _murder thoughts _show.

"Rachel called me last night. She said you were sick," Quinn says as the blonde walks over to her, concern washing over her.

Standing behind Quinn were Rachel and Kurt—the evil twins—who were both trying hard to control their laughter. Rachel winks at her and mouths, "_Payback."_

"We're heading to school, Quinn," Kurt says as he kisses the top of Quinn's head. "Thank you for being here. Santana's been a pain in the ass."

_Bitch_.

"We'll see you for lunch, Q," Rachel says as she hugs Quinn.

The blonde briefly hugs back, "Yeah. See you."

"Are you gonna stay for dinner?"

"I might."

Kurt and Rachel beam and then they're gone.

_Damn._

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" Quinn asks in this demanding tone of hers as if Santana was _obliged _to answer her calls.

"I was sick," Santana replies in her best pretend-sick rough and dry voice.

Quinn shakes her head in worry.

"Have you eaten breakfast?"

Santana only shakes her head.

Quinn rolls her eyes as she stands from her place on the bed.

"I'll prepare you something and stop being a baby, Santana. Get up and change," Quinn says and then walks toward the kitchen.

Santana could hear Rachel and Kurt's giggles.

She sighs heavily as she obeys Quinn's orders but as she does, she tries to fight the urge to smile. Quinn came to New York on a Wednesday just because she was worried about Santana.

In Santana's book, that's '_the one' _material.

**HOURS LATER**

Rachel and Kurt have gone to NYADA hours ago, so she's left with Quinn who was busy reading some notes from one of her classes. Santana is lying on the couch as Quinn sits on the floor with her back to couch.

Santana studies Quinn and _God_, how come she missed this before. The little details that make up Quinn are stunning. She's softer now. A far cry from high school Quinn or even last year Quinn; there's certainty in the way she carries herself now and Santana knows it's not a façade.

Her confidence makes Quinn even more breathtaking and Santana admires her for it.

"Stop staring, San," Quinn calls her out without looking at her.

"I wasn't staring."

Quinn smirks, "Right."

Santana rolls her eyes, "Why are you here, Q? Don't you have classes?"

Quinn shrugs, "I do. I ditched them."

Santana chuckles because Quinn Fabray ditching her classes to take care of Santana Lopez, that's ridiculous. It's so ridiculous that she mocks Quinn for it, "For what? For me?"

Still reading her notes, Quinn replies easily, "Yeah."

Santana's heart stops momentarily.

It's good that Quinn is focused on her notes because Santana's face probably mirrors her shock right now. So, Quinn really did just come here to take care of her.

She releases a breath she didn't know she was holding.

_Damn. Rachel Berry._

**THAT EVENING**

She finds herself seated by the dining table that night watching Rachel type away on her laptop.

The dinner table is a mess with all of Quinn, Kurt, and Rachel's study materials and she's sitting in the middle of it all after an entire day of observing Quinn and taking in the fact that the blonde spontaneously came to New York just because she wanted to see how Santana was doing.

Even if she wanted to, she couldn't get over it.

"Santana, are you okay?" Rachel's voice interrupts her internal ramble.

Startled, she could only nod.

Quinn and Kurt were out to get dinner so, it's only her and Rachel.

"Are you sure?" Rachel asks, as she sets her laptop aside.

"I'm fine, Berry. I just spent an entire day pretending to be sick," Santana says then rolls her eyes.

Rachel smiles and nods teasingly, "A 'thank you, Rachel' will do."

Santana smirks, "Never."

"We can't keep doing this to Quinn, you know."

Santana sighs, "I know."

"Santana, I know you're upset at—"

"Berry, just let it go. She obviously likes that Spencer chick. My bus arrived late. You can tell Quinn the pregnancy is a false alarm."

There's sadness in her tone.

"Wow. It's true," Rachel chuckles.

"What is?"

"You're really stubborn."

"It's not like you don't know that."

"I know, I mean, you're the stubborn and tough Santana Lopez but Quinn is really right about you when you're unmotivated."

"Quinn?"

"Well, we talked a lot about you when we toured Staten. She told me that you could be such a mope-around baby when you're upset."

Santana rolls her eyes.

"Look, Santana. Quinn went all the way here to take care of you. Don't you think this says enough about hope?"

"Do you know what happened the last time I got my hopes up?"

Rachel only looks at her.

"Brittany dated Sam. So no, thank you."

The other brunette takes and releases a deep breath, "Do you know what I thought the moment I first felt that Finn might feel something for me?"

"Of course not."

Rachel smiles, "It didn't feel real. He was with Quinn back then, so it felt so surreal. I guess when we think that something's so impossible we never quite see it even if it's happening right in front of our eyes." Rachel meets her eyes and Santana only listens, "Sometimes, our brain refuses to process it because we know that when we finally do, we'd have to acknowledge it. We'd have to do something about it."

"Get to the point, Berry."

"Perhaps, we don't believe it because our history says a lot about people who come and go; about how all the people we felt something for left. So, sometimes, we might as well not acknowledge it. In my case, I think I have lived most of my life thinking that no one will like me so when it happened, I didn't believe it at first."

Santana smiles, "Because that was Finn and he was dating Quinn."

Rachel nods. "You're scared, Santana. You're scared to go all the way because _you've been burned before_. But Quinn is not Brittany."

Santana looks down at her hands on her lap.

"We could tell Quinn all the lies in the world but they're not gonna make Quinn yours."

"I don't know what to say."

"Start by telling her the truth, Santana."

"I don't even know what's true anymore."

"I know I'm not pregnant," Rachel says as she laughs.

This makes Santana laugh, too.

"Tell me one truth, San. Just one."

Santana contemplates. She considers shrugging the issue but she realizes that this is Rachel she's talking to; the same Rachel that had selflessly pretended to be pregnant just to cover up for her.

"I can't stop thinking about her."

There's silence—a brief one.

And then there's Rachel's smile. She smiles—so big that it rivaled the fluorescent light above them.

It makes Santana smile, too, "Stop."

Rachel smile grows bigger as if she's watching a scene in a romantic-comedy movie.

"Stop it, Berry. I'm serious," she calls out, smilingly.

"See, that wasn't so hard."

"Fuck you."

Rachel giggles.

Santana tries to fight it at first but it makes her laugh, too. "Berry, stop it."

"I'm not doing anything."

They're both smiling bashfully and Santana will never admit it but it feels good to finally say it out loud.

"Rachel Berry and her ways," Santana says, shaking her head.

"Well, I guess some things never change."

Except some things do.

Except some things do change because prior to Valentine's Day, prior to having sex with her bestfriend, Quinn was just her bestfriend—someone she never thought about constantly, which she does now. And she doesn't understand why.

Santana wants to hate it but she really doesn't. It's a bit messy, sure and with the _Spencer Incident_, it's bound to get more dramatic than it already is but she doesn't hate it. Quinn captures her in such a way nobody ever does and to Santana, that's always been a good thing.

She can't stop smiling.

After what feels like forever, somebody actually makes her smile.

And that's saying something.

**THAT NIGHT**

Quinn is taking the earliest train back to New Haven tomorrow to catch up with her classes but she promised to call from time to time to check on Santana. But right now, they lay on Santana's bed with Quinn's back turned from her. The blonde has now fallen asleep and her light snoring clams the brunette.

Santana lays there staring at the ceiling, thinking about the conversation she had with Rachel. It felt good to say the truth and maybe the truth really sets you free. She tries not to think about how they're sharing a bed right now and what happened the last time they did.

That's the last thing she wants to think about.

Santana swallows.

She turns to Quinn's side and carefully puts her arm around Quinn's waist. She scoots closer to Quinn. The blonde adjusts but only welcomes Santana's warmth. The Latina's face is now on Quinn's hair and she could smell the blonde's familiar shampoo. She takes it in and smiles to herself.

Quinn feels _right _in her arms.

And this definitely feels different than the last time she was this close and intimate with Quinn.

This one sends butterflies to her stomach. It makes her heart flutter for reasons she doesn't know but she likes it.

Then, she follows what Rachel said earlier: _start by telling the truth_.

"Thank you for being here, Quinn. You have no idea how glad I am that you're here."

Unbeknownst to Santana, Quinn's eyes snap open.

And Quinn smiles.

* * *

I know this is simpler and definitely shorter, please don't kill me.

I hope you still liked it, though. We're gonna get to the real truth people, slowly but surely. *winks

Reviews?


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